Outlawed
by HogwartsAsWeKnowIt
Summary: Twelve-year-old Harry Potter had his life changed when he learned he was a wizard. And now his world is about to turn upside down again as his true parentage is revealed. With his list of enemies gradually growing, life is constantly on the line. Because apparently he's the son of Bellatrix Lestrange and Loki Laufyson. -Post Iron Man 3 and during Chamber of Secrets-
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Throughout this fanfiction I do not own anything you recognize from Marvel or Harry Potter._

_This story takes place after the Iron Man 3 movie and during Chamber of Secrets._

_Please PM me if you any questions._

_I appreciate all reviews! :)_

* * *

Everytime Tony Stark traveled to Captain's third story apartment he hated the rusty stairs more and more. Part of it was because there wasn't an elevator and that it was so old-fashioned. As he approached C306 he could hear the VCR playing...again. Opening the door, the sound of the old recordings became clearer.

"And at the front of the line, shoulder to shoulder with our battling boys is Capt-" the sentence froze as Steve had clicked pause.

"You almost managed to sneak up on me. Almost."

"How many times have you watched that film?" Tony questioned, stepping further into the tiny dining room.

"Why are you here?" Steve muttered while standing up to place the VCR back into its ripped, worn, paper case.

"Hmph. Then I'm guessing S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't contacted you yet," his eyes darted to the phone; there was no blinking lights or any sign that it was alive. "Hey, Capsicle. Why's the phone unplugged?"

"It is extremely annoying."

"Why? Because everyone keeps calling everyday to make sure you're still alive? After New Yo-...ya know...you kind of stop contacting anyone."

"So that's why you're here again? Because I haven't been answering my phone? Thanks for the concern, Stark. Greatly appreciated. But wait- Tony Stark continually checking on me? Something doesn't tell its _your_ concern. Maybe someone else's...like Pepper's, or Fury's... But definitely not Tony Stark's."

"Okay you got me," Tony sat down at the table, staring aimlessly at the Army uniform. "S.H.I.E.L.D. sent me this time. We have a new target."

"Target? I thought you took care of the Mandarin all by yourself."

"It's not the Mandarin."

Steve stared right into his eyes, "Are they returning?"

"No, no, not the damn Chitari. It's Loki's son."

Furrowing his eyebrows, the Captain put on thinking face. "A son? On earth? What's his play, his targets?" The chair squeaked as he sat down across from Stark.

"He's a twelve year old boy."

"And he's a threat? What is he? A maniac, mental god like Loki?!"

"He's um...just a 12 year old boy."

"And so now Fury's re-assembling the Avengers to catch an innocent kid?"

"Yeah pretty much."

"I can't believe this. What's his name?"

"Harry Potter."

* * *

As usual, the Helicarrier was as busy and crowded as ever. Once again, all six Avengers were assembled in the 'computer room' discussing tactics with Director Fury.

"I want to know why we're going after some kid who hasn't done a single thing as to get on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar," questioned Rogers.

"A valid point," agreed Thor.

"I think Stark expained it wrongly," answered Fury. "We're not going after him because he's a threat, we're going after him because he has potential."

"Potential for what?" Clint stopped tapping his fingers on the glass table.

"If he's the son of Loki, he may have special powers that can either be used for the good, or for the bad. We want to get there before he can have any contact with Asguard or his father."

"Oh, so you want us to 'recruite him' into an Agent?" Natasha asked.

"Just about. But if he has special powers, he may be hanging out wth the big boys."

"Do you mean he may becccme an 'Avenger'?" said Tony, who was at the table slumped in his chair and looking somewhat bored.

"Yes Stark."

"Who's his mother?" Thor's manly voice spoke up again.

"Her name is Bellatrix Lestrange. She's been in prison for the duration of Harry's life and he doesn't really know she exists. Like Loki, she is a war criminal."

Bruce paused his pacing behind the table. "He doesn't know his true parentage, does he?"

"Negative. This child thinks he's a son of James and Lily Potter. However, they died when he was just a baby and never had the chance to raise him. Therefore, Lily's sister and her husband took care of him until now."

"So S.H.I.E.L.D. is starting a daycare? This should be interesting," muttered the Hawk.

"When are we first approaching him?"

"Today."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Stark and Clint were arguing. Over cars.

"The average 0-60 for the typical Acura S.H.I.E.L.D. uses is 7 seconds."

"You're kidding, right? My old Audi R8 e-tron goes 0-60 in 4.8 seconds."

"Top speed?"

"124 mph."

"Really, guys?" Agent Romanoff rolled her eyes.

"Nobody has answered my question as why we are staked-out in a bush," announced Clint.

Sure enough, hiding in the Dursleys's shrubs, was the not-so-casually-dressed King of Asguard, the 'Star-Spangled Man With a Plan', two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in their issued attire, a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist in his gold and titanium armor, and a gamma-expert/doctor who was becoming quite uncomfortable sitting on dirt in one of his best suits.

"Because Mr. George Washington told us too," hissed Bruce.

"Quiet. I may hear something," ordered Captain Rogers.

"That's promising," Stark whispered under his breath.

Across the yard, someone was hiding in another bush. Because at that moment, two bright, rather round and large bright green eyes stared straight right at the Avengers.

"What is it?" asked Natasha, as she pulled out a gun from her waist belt.

"I volunteer Rogers as tribute!" exclaimed Stark.

"Keep it down," Steve lowered Nat's gun and pushed Tony's helmet down so he face-planted into wet dirt.

"Thank you, Steve," said Stark in-between spitting dirt out of his mouth. "I always wanted to taste that particular square-foot of garden soil."

"Should we go after it?" Thor questioned.

"Do any of you know what it might be?" Steve said quietly.

All of them shook their heads for 'No'. But during that brief conversation, the wondering eyes were gone.

* * *

Inside Number 4 of Privet Drive, the day had been the typical for young Harry Potter, except it was his birthday. However, nobody but him paid it the slightest attention. His twelfth birthday had started when Aunt Petunia rapped sharply on his wooden door so he could awaken as to make the Dursleys breakfast. At the table it was announced that today was 'the big business opportunity for Vernon at the dinner party tonight'. It was also made clear that Harry was supposed to be silently up in his room pretending that he didn't exist as the gathering was taking place. Then, he was set to work: trimming the garden, painting the chipped bench...anything typical for your garden guy. During all of his chores Dudley waddled behind him eating ice cream, doing absolutely nothing productive. Harry's only laugh was when he freaked his fat brother out pretending to set a bush on fire with magic. And the Dursleys almost believed him. Because scrawny, short, messed-up-hair Harry Potter was a wizard. He went to a wizarding school with wizard friends, but for the duration of summer, he was forced to being treated like a personal slave to his aunt's family. And unless he was at Hogwarts, it was always going to be that way.

Before he knew it, Harry was being rushed to his bedroom after a quick, pathetic dinner of two slices of bread and a chunk of cheese.

Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed.

The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Wow! That's really all I can say! So many follows and favorites?! Unbelievable! So thank you, my dear readers for following, favoritism, and reviewing. I greatly appreciate it! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Most of this chapter was taken from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling, so just want to repeat that I don't own any of this. _

_I'm also lengthening the chapters best I can, as I'm not good writing long chapters. But since I have so many followers, I'll give it a shot for ya'll._

_Thanks for reading and please review!_

_:)_

* * *

After almost screaming, Harry pondered what to do with the creature sitting promptly on his bed. It was tiny, and almost reminded him of a hairless Chihuahua except for the tennis-ball-sized, bright green eyes. The Thing bowed, so that its thin, long nose almost touched the carpet. Harry noticed that what it was wearing seemed like a very old and ragged pillowcase with hand-cut holes for the Thing's arms and legs.

From the hallway, Harry could hear Dudley's voice, "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"

He stared skeptically at the Thing, and Harry's eyes widened even more (if that's possible) when the most high-pitched voice he had ever heard came out of the Chihuahua.

"Harry Potter!" the Thing exclaimed, and Harry winced, realizing that a voice of that volume would've easily traveled down the stairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir...Such an honor it is..."

"Th-Thank you." By edging along, Harry managed to reach his desk chair which he collapsed in. He wanted to ask 'What are you?' but realizing that was rude, he instead said, "Who are you?"

"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," replied the Thing.

"Oh - really?" said Harry. "Er - I don't want to be rude or anything, but - this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom."

Sounding from the living room, Harry easily heard Aunt Petunia's very fake laugh. Hanging his head, the elf's poise changed as if he had just been shamed.

"Not that I'm not pleased to meet you," Harry apologized quickly, "But, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Oh, yes, sir," Dobby said earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir ... it is difficult, sir ... Dobby wonders where to begin..."

"Sit down," offered Harry, politely pointing to his bed.

Harry grimaced again, because to his utmost horror, the Thing, Dobby, had just burst into very noisy sobs.

"_S-sit down_!" wailed the house-elf. "_Never...never, ever_..."

Downstairs, the voices paused for a few brief seconds. Harry really hoped he had just imagined the falter in the conversation.

"I'm sorry," he said under his breath. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything-"

"Offend Dobby!" choked the Thingy. "Dobby has _never _been asked to sit down by a wizard - like an equal -"

Trying to say "Shh!" and sound comforting at the same time was difficult as he ushered the now hiccuping Dobby back onto the bed and he sat there having a meltdown, looking extremely like some ugly old doll. Finally he managed to regain control over his emotions, and admiringly gazed at Harry with glistening, watery eyes.

"You can't have met many decent wizards," said a desperate Harry, as he tried to cheer him up.

"Wizards? No, sir Mr. Potter. Dobby has met no wizards. Only demigods."

"Demigods?"

Without a warning, Dobby abruptly rushed to the window and started banging his head furiously on it, while screaming, "_Bad_ Dobby! _Bad_ Dobby!"

Harry hissed, "Don't - what are you doing?!" He sprung up and grabbed the elf by its midsection, dragging Dobby back to the bed. Hedwig had woken up with quite a screech, and starting beating her strong wings on the bars of her cage.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the now slightly cross-eyed house-elf. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his master, sir..."

"Your master?"

"The royal king I serve, sir ... Dobby is a house-elf - bound to serve one house and one master or family forever..."

"Does he, your master, know you're here?"

With a shudder, Dobby replied, "Oh, no, sir, no ... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If he ever knew, sir -"

"But he won't notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. He lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes he reminds me to do extra punishments..."

"But why don't you leave? Escape?"

"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will ever set Dobby free ... Dobby will serve his master until he dies, sir ..."

Harry gaped. "And I thought I had it bad staying here for another four weeks," he said. "This makes the Dursleys sound almost human. Can't anyone help you? Can't I?"

Once again, Dobby unexpectically broke into grateful tears and wails.

"Please," Harry whispered agitatedly. "Please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything, if they know you're here -

"Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby ... Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew ..."

Desperately trying not to blush, Harry corrected him, "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts; that's Hermione, she-"

* * *

"There's something going on up there," muttered the Captain.

"There is a person in his near presence," agreed the thunder god, as he gripped his hammer tightly.

Agent Romanoff raised her gun once again. Steve eyed it, but didn't say anything.

"Who should we send up?" Clint had his hand on an arrow in his quiver.

"No one. Not yet. We need to see who it is first," Stark lowered his face mask.

"Uh...guys?" Banner interrupted.

"Don't suit up," almost all of them replied in unison.

"I don't think we need all of us. Wouldn't want to scare the kid away," Clint spoke his mind.

"Bird Brains has a point, Capsicle," said Tony.

Natasha rolled her eyes. Typical Tony Stark.

"I know, I know. Shut up and lemme think," Steve snapped.

There was a few moments of respectful silence for the matter that Steve was thinking.

"I don't know what we should do until we see the person inside with Harry."

"That is helpful," muttered Thor.

"Therefore we're still stuck in this rather tiny and uncomfortable shrub?"

"Yep."

* * *

"Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he _does_ have to shut his ears in the oven door later ... _Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts_."

As those words sunk into Harry, the clink of silverware and Uncle Vernon's rumbling voice could be heard distantly from the kitchen.

"W-What?" coughed Harry. "But I've got to go back - term starts on September first. t's all that's keeping me going. You don't know what it's like here. I don't _belong_ here. I belong in Hogwarts."

"No, no, no," squeaked the house-elf. "You do not belong at Hogwarts! You belong on Asg-"

After making a funny choking noise, Dobby began smashing his head repeatedly on the wall.

"All right!" cried Harry, snatching Dobby's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning _me_?" Suddenly, a horrid thought hit him. "Hang on - this hasn't got anything to do with Voldemort, has it? You could just shake or nod."

Dobby's head tilted closer to the wall, but slowly but surely Dobby shook his head. "It is not this _wizard _you speak of, sir..."

Dobby seemed to be giving Harry a hint, but Harry had absolutely no idea what the Thing was speaking of.

"He hasn't got a brother has he? A squib or something?"

"Harry Potter, Dobby does not know what a 'squib' is. But you cannot return to Hogwarts!"

"Who is it, keeping me from Hogwarts?"

"Your fathe-"

Before Harry had a chance to react, the house-elf was beating himself on the head with Harry's desk lamp and emitting dying-bird sreams.

Downstairs, a sudden silence fell. With his heart beating at a crazy rate, two seconds later he could hear Uncle Vernon's steps in the hall and him calling, "Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!"

"Quick! In the closet!" Harry hissed, forcing Dobby into the darkness then shutting the door quickly. A split-second before Uncle Vernon slammed the door open, Harry flung himself onto the bed.

"What - the - _devil_ - are - you - doing?" Uncle Vernon spat on Harry, his face extremely close. "You just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke ... One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy!"

Then Harry's fat, short uncle strided out of the room with quite loud footsteps. Still breathing rather hard, Harry released Dobby from his hiding place in the closet.

There was just one problem, the house-elf was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_I do not own anything you recognize from Marvel or Harry Potter._

_In the next few chapters, I'm going to go deeper into each Avengers character and try to explain some things before questions start to be asked. Such as "How does Stark have a suit if the story's post Iron Man 3?" or "How is Thor back on earth?" Oh, and if you haven't seen IM3 yet, this fanfic may contain spoilers. You can't say I didn't warn you._

_I also incorporated a little Prisoner of Azkaban unintentionally in this chapter. Kind of just realized that._

_Thanks so much for all your support! :)_

* * *

Whispers filled the Dursleys's shrub.

"Should we call it in?" Nat asked.

"Might as well, but don't call for backup. I doubt we'll need it," Rogers answered.

"Can we get out of this bush now, _please_?" Stark hissed.

"We could, if only we were more casually dressed..." Thor's gruff and rather loud voice replied.

"Look who's talking," Bruce spoke up, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"It's almost dark out. If we wait for another half-hour we could sneak out of the neighborhood and back to the cars." Clint polished another arrow.

"We can't just burst in, can we?"

"And what are we supposed to say? 'Sorry that's there's a giant hole in your roof, we're just breaking in to steal your son, no worries! Have a nice evening!'"

"Who said anything about making a hole in the roof?"

"Stark just did."

"Stop arguing. That's not going to get us anywhere! I'm going to call in to Fury and headquarters, say there's some unusual activity going on inside the house. Stark can set up a camera so we can keep an eye on things and then we'll be on our way. Clear?"

"Clear."

"I don't have a camera with me!" declared Stark.

The Captain eyed the suit, "Don't lie to me Mr. Iron Man. There's gotta be one in there somewhere."

Muttering something or other first, Stark ordered Jarvis to open the suit and he scrambled out. Then, after re-assembling it, Tony started taking various components off and starting finding cameras.

"Good boy," smirked Bruce.

Steve grabbed his manual radio and successfully managed to press the right buttons on the device. "Cap'n Rogers to Fury. Do you copy?"

"This is Director Fury, I copy."

"Bad and good news. The good news is that we're going to be out of this bush soon. The bad news is an undentifiable person is up in Harry's room. We don't want to approach, so Stark is setting up cameras-"

"Unwillingly!" Tony shouted into the microphone.

"So Stark is _unwillingly _setting up cameras so we can monitor the area," Rogers finished his sentence.

"Fine. Just get back to headquarters as quickly as possible so we can view the feed from the cameras. Stark, do you copy?"

"Yep. We'll be there soon enough, your Directorness."

Ignoring Stark, Fury said, "Rogers?"

"Yes?"

"None of you are to be seen. Over."

"Copied. Rogers, over and out."

While the other five watched Tony set up the cameras, there was a few moments of silence of which they could hear the sounds of the night. An owl hooted, singing along with the orchestra of crickets. Somewhere down Privet Drive, a car pulled into its driveway and the roar of its engine died. Abruptly, Stark announced, "Ok, done. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Right before Harry could go into a frenzied panic, the squeaky voice returned. Harry spun around to discover the elf back on his bed.

Without even questioning how the house-elf had managed some form of apparation, Harry protested, "But see what it's like here? See why I've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got - well, I_ think _I've got friends."

"Friends who don't even _write_ to Harry Potter?" asked Dobby slyly.

"I expect they've just been - wait a minute," said Harry, now pointing a suspicious finger at the elf. "How do _you_ know my friends haven't been writing to me?"

"Harry Potter musn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best-"

"_Have you been stopping my letters?_"

"Dobby has them here, sir," reasoned the elf. Careful to step out of Harry's reach first, the house-elf pulled out a thick stack of envelopes from his pillowcase dress. From his view-point, Harry could make out Ron's messy scribble, and Hermione's elegant script. A few even had Hagrid's untidy scrawl.

Blinking anxiously, Dobby waited for Harry's response. "Harry Potter musn't be angry ... Dobby hoped ... if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him ... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir ..."

Instead of listening, Harry made a grab for the letters but Dobby nimbly hopped out of reach again.

"Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a year you'll regret going back! Say you won't go back, Harry Potter!"

"No!" Harry forgot that he shouldn't of been shouting. "Give me my friends' letters!"

"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice." Instantly, Dobby had sprinted to the door, yanked it open and leaped down the stairs.

Harry was just as fast, and tried best he could not to make a sound as he sprang after the elf. Jumping the last few steps, he landed ninja-like and glanced around for Dobby. From the dining room, the deep voice of Uncle Vernon could be heard saying, "... tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear ..."

As Harry rushed into the kitchen, he scanned the scene, causing his stomach to take a trip to the middle of the earth.

Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of dessert, the pudding with mountains of cream and sugared flowers, was hovering extremely close to the ceiling. On top of a cupboard, Dobby crouched in its corner.

"No," whispered Harry. "Please ... they'll kill me ..."

"Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school -"

"Dobby ... please ..."

"Say it, sir -"

"I can't -"

With a tragic look, Dobby said, "Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter's own good."

After a mini heart attack, Harry watched the cake fall in slow motion. On contact, the cake sounded and exploded like a firework. The dish shattered, and frosting splattered onto the once spotless walls and glass windows. Dobby disappeared in a bright blue array of light, leaving Harry as the only one to blame.

There was a few screams of shock emitted from the Masons and Dursleys because of the sudden crash.

* * *

"Sir, a few screams just came from the house of Number 4, Privet Drive of Surrey," Jarvis alerted Tony as the Avengers were cautiously making their way back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Acuras awaiting them two blocks away.

"And turn around," Clint spun on his heel and began to retrace his steps back to the bush.

"This is going to be a _long_ night," Bruce muttered to himself.

Bursting into the kitchen, Uncle Vernon found the mess that Dobby had so suddenly and easily created. Upon his arrival, he also discovered Harry frozen in a combination of horror and distress.

In the beginning, it seemed as though Mr. Dursley would simply come up with a few simple lies and polish up the whole situation. ("Just our nephew - very disturbed - meeting strangers upsets him, so we kept him upstairs...") Instead, he shooed the Masons back to their seats at the dining table, gave Harry a mop and made a promise that as soon as the Masons left, Harry was to get quite a whipping. To substitute the now ruined pudding, Aunt Petunia dug a carton of ice cream from the freezer while a shaking Harry began to de-cream the windows, walls, and floor of the kitchen.

And Uncle Vernon would of been able to keep his promise - if it weren't for the owl.

As Mrs. Dursley was passing out after-dinner mints to the Masons, an unexpected and uninvited guest swooped from an open window. When the barn owl dropped an envelope on Mrs. Mason's head, she screamed like some evil demon and ran out of Number 4 shrieking about lunatics. Rounding on Uncle Vernon, Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to explain that Mrs. Mason had an extreme phobia of birds of all shapes and sizes and asked if they thought this was their idea of a dirty joke.

Clutching the mop for support and his dear life, Harry shrunk towards the floor as Uncle Vernon stepped intimidating towards his nephew, shaking with rage and pure hatred in his beady eyes.

"Read - it," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Go - on, READ IT!"

Harry gulped and ripped open the letter. Unfortunately, it did not contain birthday greetings.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine._

_As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)._

_We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statue of Secrecy._

_Enjoy your holidays!_

_Yours Sincerely,_

Mafalda Hophirk

_Mafala Hophirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

Although Harry didn't want to, he timidly rose his head to face Uncle Vernon's rage.

"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school! Forgot to mention it ... Slipped your mind, I daresay ..." Uncle Vernon advanced on Harry, and his rather round face reminded Harry of a bared-teeth bull-dog about to attack. "Well, I've got news for you, boy ... I'm locking you up. ... You're never going back to that school ... never ... and if you try to magic yourself out - they'll expel you!"

But before Uncle Vernon could drag Harry up to his room, he caught sight through the glass panes on the front door of a man in a buisness suit approaching.

He had dark hair, glasses, a navy blue tie, and was desperately trying to wipe dirt off his trousers.

Harry saw him too, and wriggled free from his Uncle's steel grasp. His first thought was, _The Ministry has come! Dobby came and made another mess and they're going to expel me!_

Without a second thought or hesitation Harry raced to the cupboard and out of Vernon's reach. Remarkingly quickly, Harry had picked the lock and grabbed his wand out of his old 'bedroom', the cupboard under the stairs. He pointed it at his Uncle.

"I'm running now. And there's nothing you can do," he announced. If looks could kill, Mr. Dursley was currently murdering Harry, but he didn't make any more attempts to choke him.

Right before the knock on the door arrived, Harry had kicked his Hogwarts trunk open and grabbed his Invisibilty Cloak, shielding his entire body. He knew no matter what, he was screwed now. As Uncle Vernon opened the door he managed to grab his trunk and slip up the stairs without a sound to his room to collect the rest of the little he owned. Unfortunately, he couldn't close the door without attracting attention so he cautiously tiptoed around placing various objects into the suitcase he had set behind the door so it wouldn't be noticed from the entryway.

Of course, the voices traveled easily up the stairs.

"Who are you?" barked Uncle Vernon.

"I'm Dr. Bruce Banner from the Strategic Homeland, Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."

"What stupid organization is that?! 'Cause I'm not interested in buying any of your bloody-"

"Oh, no we're not an organization-"

"Then what the bloody hell _are_ you?"

"An agency. And we're here on account of Harry Potter."

That was enough Harry needed to hear. Even though he was wrong, and it wasn't the Ministry, it _was_ some high class agency that was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with it.

Uncle Vernon smirked at the Doctor, "I'm sorry, but Harry isn't here right now. In fact, he doesn't even _live_ here anymore. So good-bye." For some reason, Harry had the feeling those words were intended for him more then for the 'business suit man'.

While Dr. Banner continued having a heated discussion with Uncle Vernon, Harry grasped his trunk and awkwardly held it under his Cloak. Silently, he slipped down the stairs and out the "Number 4 ... out of the sights of Privet Drive actually, he stepped behind some trees and packed the Invisibilty Cloak back into his luggage. With a Shrinking Charm, he made it so he could slide his trunk into the front pocket of his jeans so he didn't have to worry about carrying it.

Then he ran like hell.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_I do not own anything you recognize from Marvel or Harry Potter._

_So basically I'm going away from Harry for awhile since he's practically just running around like a homeless, escaped prisoner all over London and stuff. I'll be focusing mainly on Avengers for some time, like I mentioned in Chapter 4._

_I really hope ya'll get some feels from this chapter. I sort of made it a little emotional._

_And the chapters continue to gradually get longer..._

_Thanks for reading and please review! :)_

* * *

Stumbling toward his master, Dobby gulped as he bowed.

"Have you convinced him? Never to return?" said the god in his low, commanding voice.

"Dobby tried, sir! It seems Harry Potter has run away from home, sir!" Dobby whimpered.

"_Is_ he returning to that school, you mewling quim?!"

"N-No, sir. He has just run away into the streets!"

"Find him. Now. Before the _rest_ of them," the Master slammed his staff onto the floor. "I need him here. Do you realize how useful he could be to me when I succeed in my next attack?"

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Right away, sir!" Dobby scuttled quickly out of the god's presence.

* * *

It was pitch black out, with a sliver of a silver moon failing to illuminate the dead of the night. After all of them had changed into somewhat more casual clothes, the Avengers were on the road in what looked like some sort of Police escort. Steve was in front, on a rented black motorbike with his usual slacks and brown leather jacket. The only reason he was wearing a biker helmet was so he could receive and send radio inputs with the rest of the group. In a S.H.I.E.L.D. Acura behind him, Barton, Agent Romanoff, Bruce, Thor, and Stark were uncomfortably crushed together. Of course, Tony was driving in his Black Sabbath T-shirt, faded jeans and a pair of red Converse. Thor sat shotgun with a white T, out of his usual Asguardian attire. Squished in the back, Clint and Bruce sat on either side of Natasha. Bruce and Clint both had dark shirts and slacks, while Nat had her straightened hair in a tight French twist, with a collared, white, eyelet top over a dark blue tank and frayed shorts.

All of them would of wished for Steve's predicament, but didn't complain much. They had a job to do, and they were going to get it done.

"It's a twelve year old kid running around London. How hard can it be?" reasoned Tony, the radio system, where the CD player usually was in a car, automatically picked up his voice for Steve.

"Don't count on anything being easy, Stark. I thought you would of learned by now: never underestimate your opponent," said Clint.

"Hmph," Tony shrugged.

"What do you know of him, Thor?"

"Nothing. My mind contains no hypothesis to when Loki would of had a child with this mortal, Bellatrix Lestrange. Loki wished to destroy this planet. So if he had a son on Midguard, he obviously didn't care much about him," Thor replied.

"Could the son have had contact with Loki before the New York portho-"

"DON'T SAY THE N-Y OR P WORD WHILE I'M DRIVING!" Tony shouted in the radio to Steve.

Through the windshield, they saw Steve swerve a little. "Dammit Stark! Don't yell into my headset! This thing is louder than you think! You're gonna make me cause an accident with it being pitch-black out!"

_There's no one out to hit at midnight, Capsicle_, thought Tony as he "Hmph-ed" again.

"And you'll be paying!" Cap added.

"He has a point though. Can someone on Asguard make contact with someone on Earth?" Agent Romanoff asked.

"Not exactly. You must travel to Midguard to make contact. Of course, you can send someone to deliver a message for you."

"Could Loki of done that?"

"He's locked up in a glass cell with fifteen guards and very little communication to anyone," the god of thunder answered.

"But can't the little bastard make doubles of himself and send them places?" Rogers asked.

"There is enchantments and ancient spells casted upon his chamber. For him, there is little chance to escape."

"But haven't we learned that he'll take that little chance?" Bruce spoke up, turning away his attention from the window.

Tony's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "What if he returns? We've learned that he doesn't give up easy, and he'll want revenge on us. Last time he targeted each of us, tried to separate us so that we'd be weaker. But this time he'll want to lure us away from each other. He knows he can't win with us in his way. So he'll target what's most important to each of us, make them his tools so we'll run after him and be down on our knees begging him for them back. He wants control over us. Vengeance. And he'll have no mercy."

No one said anything for awhile. In front of them, Steve had slowed down quite a bit, as they had all become lost in thought after Tony's deep words for a few minutes.

"Tony?" said Captain Rogers.

"Yeah?"

"You're talking about Pepper, aren't you?"

Tony didn't reply, so Steve spoke up again, "I heard what happened. How everything was almost ripped away from you. Pepper, Happy, Rhodes. And I know you think I'm just some old soldier and pretty stupid when it comes to the modern world, but listen to me. I _have_ had everything ripped away from me. Back in my life, I had it all. An amazing girl who loved me no matter what, friends who would die for me, friends who _did _die for me, an unbelievable career and future plans for myself as soon as the war was over. I was going to marry Peggy. I wanted to have some kids and raise them in New York. And then, I do my duty, obey my oath to my country. I sacrificed it all. I was going to die instead of the entire population of the Eastern coastal states. And I did. But then I wake up. Reality hits. Everyone, absolutely _everyone _I had ever known and loved was gone. Dead years ago. Yet here I was. Nothing was familiar to me at all and I had nothing to hold on to. I tried to find things to bring me back for just a few short seconds. But it was like I was stuck on a different world. Because nothing could replace Peggy's kisses, Bucky desperately trying to find me a date, the Colonel's strict orders, Dr. Erksine's wise words to me, and the days my buddies and I would 'sock Hitler in the face'. I have nothing, Tony. It's just another empty day in hell, everyday, and honestly, I wished I was dead. I'd rather be. And all of you, you don't realize how blessed you are. You can all have everything I can never have again. So, Tony, maybe I am just an old soldier, haunted by memories of my past. But I want to help you if you need it. Because no one, _no _one should have to go through what I'm going through. And the least I can do is make sure that never happens."

Tony kept staring straight at the road but whispered, "Thanks."

"You are a noble man, mortal," Thor nodded.

* * *

It was two hours later, and very little had been conversed after Steve's speech. The trio in the backseat of the Acura had managed to fall asleep, with Natasha laying her head on Clint's shoulder. Thor was snoring loudly in the passenger's side, which was pretty much driving the exhausted Tony insane. For the most part, Steve was still wide awake. They were driving the back streets of London, still searching for Harry. The Captain had allowed Tony to turn on his brights, so they could see the sides of the road better even though that meant Steve's rearview mirrors were pretty much useless.

"How're doin'?" Steve asked over the radio. "Because I don't want you falling asleep behind the wheel and crashing into me."

"Well that just may happen i-in-" Tony yawned, "-in half an hour."

"You could wake up Clint or Nat and have them drive," suggested Rogers.

"Nah, I'll let them sleep. I usually stay up 48 hours straight. It's just, with the time change and all, it's a little different. How're you doing?"

"I've slept for 70 years, I think I've had my rest."

"You know you can't use the same excuse forever."

"I can try," Cap chuckled.

"Thank you, really," Tony said.

"For...?"

"Saying what you said earlier, old soldier."

"It was true, ya know," replied Steve. "You can ask for help. You don't have to do everything yourself."

"I know. But Mr. Iron Man, needing help? Not the best media image."

Rogers laughed. "But according to the media, you've come back to life one or two times."

"Ah, well..."

"Do you think you could turn your brights off now? I really doubt we'll locate the kid tonight. Let's get off on the next exit to the highway and find the nearest hotel. Can you ask Jarvis where one is?"

"Yeah sure, Capsicle," Stark clicked the brights off. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Please detect the closest five-star hotel."

"I'm already working on it, sir. There is a small-"

Jarvis didn't get to finish his sentence.

At that moment, some type of animal ran in front of Steve's motorbike and he swerved - too hard. The bike went down, and Tony immediately slammed the brakes and yanked the wheel to the left. The Acura slid to a stop, burning rubber and causing skid marks on the asphalt.

It was enough to wake up the confused passengers in the car, but Tony jumped out and ran to the other side of the Acura. He sighed with relief when he saw Steve already standing up and brushing himself off. The helmet, still on his head, had quite a dent on the right side. The four filed out of the now wide open doors.

"What the hell just happened?!"

"Oh my gawd, Rogers are you okay?!"

Cap pulled the helmet off and the first thing he said was, "Nice slide, Stark. I thought you used to race."

"Steve, are you okay?" Nat stared at the jacked-up bike.

"I'm fine, honestly. It'll take a lot more than that to make me feel any pain," he smiled assuredly.

"Your head's bleeding," Clint pointed out.

"It is?" Steve reached his hand up to above his right temple, and drew back his hand to see blood. "So it is."

"Your clothes are...um.."

Steve looked down to see the right side of his slacks completely torn to shreds; his jacket had seen better days as well.

"Well, it's time to go shopping again, I guess," Rogers scowled. He turned behind him and just glared at the bike for a few seconds before walking over to it. The paint job was ruined and it had a few dings, but asides from that it looked fine. Steve pulled it up, straightened everything out, then climbed on and tried to start it. It fired right up and Steve grinned.

"Well we can't exactly return it to the rental place this way, but at least it runs."

"Don't worry, I'll cover it," Tony shrugged.

"Steve get off that bike and come over here," Bruce commanded, striding towards him. Rogers didn't move, but he let the Doctor inspect his head.

"Tell me when it hurts," Bruce gently applied pressure with his thumb around where it was bleeding. Steve sat there with his arms crossed, with a bored expression on his face.

"C'mon Banner. Really, I'm fine. You don't need to do this."

With a concerned expression on his face, Bruce said, "Fine. But I'm going to be watching you closely. I don't care if you're a super-soldier, you may of had a concussion."

Steve just laughed.

"I don't want you driving and I want you to put ice on your head as soon as we can get some."

"Sure, doc," Rogers rolled his eyes.

"So J?" Tony tapped the tiny device in his ear. "Where is the nearest five star hotel?"

"Sixteen miles, sir."

"Ok then, lets go drive sixteen miles."

"What about the bike?" asked Nat.

"I'll drive it behind you guys," offered Banner.

"Take the helmet for the radio," Steve handed it to him.

"Thanks."

"Let's go," Natasha announced with a yawn afterwards.

They got back into the desired vehicle. This time, it was Bruce behind them on the jacked up bike, Tony, Nat and Steve in the backseat of the Acura with Clint driving and Thor shotgun again.

"Nobody answered my question on how the hell this all happened," said Clint as he switched lanes.

"Well, Stark and I were just talking over the radio and he had his brights off because we had pretty much given up the search for Harry. I couldn't really see that well of what was in front of me with it being pitch black and just a single headlight with the bike. And plus, with the roar of the motorbike and the radio, I couldn't hear anything else. So I had no warning when the strangest looking animal ran in front of me. It looked like a little hairless dog with giant ears. It was just weird. Anyways, I just automatically swerved to the right, but I since I'm not that used to the bike, I just I must of turned it too hard and it just fell over. I did hit my head pretty hard and slid on the concrete a couple feet. But I think the biggest concern was Stark running me over me with a two-ton machine, but thankfully he managed to just miss me."

"You're bleeding pretty hard now," Agent Romanoff grimaced.

Steve had his hand the side of his head trying to apply some pressure to cease the flow of scarlet, but it wasn't working too well.

"Does anyone have anything ice cold in the car?" Bruce asked over the radio.

"We previously had clear containers of the hydration liquid," Thor recalled.

"Where are those?" Clint pulled off on an exit.

"Jarvis, was that the right exit?"

"Yes, sir."

Agent Barton glared at Tony in the rearview mirror. "Thanks for your trust in my driving."

"You're welcome."

* * *

They successfully reached the high-class hotel. Opening automatically, the group walked through the glass doors to the lobby with marble floors, mahogany walls, and a giant chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. Tony walked up to the empty desk and rung the little bell on the counter. A man in a business suit came out almost immediately. His jaw dropped when he saw his new customers.

"Tony Stark! _The _Tony Stark! In our hotel! Bloody hell!"

"Look, can you just give us the key to your biggest suite. We'll pay everything in the morning," Tony smiled, used to people gawking over him.

"Oh! Yes, yes, right away, sir!" the British man's hands shook as he handed over the plastic card. "It's floor eleven, room seven on your right, mate."

"Thanks. We'll see you in the morning."

* * *

In the suite, it truly was elegant. Three rooms, a balcony were you could see the London Eye lit up in the distance, even at 2 a.m. No one had fallen asleep again, instead they were all lounging around on the various couches, except for Tony who was searching the tables and beds for as much chocolate as he could find. Steve had changed into some clothes Thor let him borrow so they didn't have to send someone shopping. Reluctantly, Rogers had allowed Bruce to clean up his cut and apply a small bandage. He had obeyed Doctor's orders and was holding a bag of ice to his right temple. At this point, he was getting a headache so he had his eyes closed and was squeezing the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb.

"You have a headache now don't you? I have some Tylonel if you want some," Bruce was studying him closely.

"No, no. Pills are useless on me. My metabolism runs four times higher than the average person. It'll run through me before it can give an effect," Steve muttered.

"Anybody want chocolate?" Tony walked in with his hands full of red chocolate hearts.

Steve opened his left eye then closed it again, "Son of a gun."

"Should we call Fury and tell him that we didn't find him?"

"NO," almost everyone answered in unison.

"Do you _want _to get yelled at?" Tony glared at Natasha, his mouth full of chocolate.

"Okay, okay!" she held her hands up.

"Guys go to sleep," Steve ordered. "I don't need to be watched by five people."

"You should be laying down," Bruce had that concerned look on his face.

"Banner, I'm doing everything you wanted me to. I have ice on my head and I'm not driving. I'm absolutely fine. Now _go_ to sleep."

"If you say so..."

"And I do. That's Captain's orders. Go on," Rogers managed a reassuring smile.

With a "good night" they filed out one by one. Soon, Steve was alone in the room.

After about an hour he was feeling better, and his hand was pretty much frozen from holding the bag of ice. He set it down on the glass table as quietly as he could. Feeling he needed some fresh air, he walked out of the room and out onto the deck. There was a slight breeze that played with his blonde hair as he listened to the sounds of a city at night. Lone cars whizzing by, buildings lit up in the distance, horns honking downtown. Even Big Ben was visible.

But after awhile Steve's headache started up again and with a groan he walked back inside.

If he had stayed just a few minutes longer, he would of seen tiny, scrawny Harry Potter walking slowly right past the hotel, wishing more than anything he could of been inside with a room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_I do not own anything you recognize from Marvel and Harry Potter._

_I had to change up the years of the Harry Potter timeline since this story takes place in 2012 and I don't want the Avengers chasing after a twenty-five year old Harry. So the night he defeated Voldemort is now October 31st, 2000. Therefore he started going to Hogwarts in 2011, etc... But some events from the other books might be moved up a bit, as in happen sooner if you know what I mean..._

_Unfortunately, it's a much shorter chapter this time. I've been really busy so I'm actually just happy I got an update out._

_Thanks for reading! I appreciate all reviews! :)_

* * *

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

"Mhm. Jarvis, cut the alarm. What time is it anyways?" asked Tony groggily as his eyes fluttered open.

"It's 5:45 a.m., sir. This is when you asked me to wake you."

"Five more minutes," Tony stuck his head under the feather pillow.

"I must insist. Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barton are already awake, sir," Jarvis argued.

"Why does that make you think I'll get up?"

Jarvis didn't respond. "Thought so," muttered Stark.

But exactly five minutes later...

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

"Sir, it has been five minutes."

"Ugh. You do not give up, do you?"

"Not really, sir."

* * *

Reluctantly, Tony had dragged his body out of the elegant bed, grabbed a cup of black coffee and made his way out to the main room. Upon his arrival he found Clint and Steve quietly chatting over coffee on opposite couches.

"I'm sorry, did we wake you?" Steve questioned as both him and the Agent turned their attention towatds Tony.

"No. Mr. Just Another Rather Very Idiotic System did."

"Would that happen to Jarvis?" Clint smirked.

Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought it was 'Very Intelligent System'?"

Barton and Stark exchanged glances.

"You seem to be doing better," Tony sat down next to Clint and placed his mug on the glass table.

"To be honest, I feel absolutely fine now," Steve replied.

He had obviously taken a shower since there was no longer dried blood all over the right side of his face. Also, it seemed he no longer had a headache. Since his hair hid most of his gash anyways, Steve had removed the bandage.

"Maybe doc will let you drive," Clint sipped his coffee again.

"I think we'll need a new bike first," Steve laughed.

"True. What if you," Clint pointed to Tony, "rode around in the suit-"

"Crap," Tony abruptly slapped his hand on his forehead. "I left the suit in the car when I shouldn't of. I'm going to get it, and you two are to stay right here and don't tell Pepper it happened. Okay?" Tony Stark ran out of the hotel room.

"He'll never learn, will he?" Steve chuckled.

"Probably not."

"So you were saying something about Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Yeah. Apparently, we lost any account of her school records after she turned eleven."

"Odd. Did you find this out when you were tracking her?"

"Yes. We've been searching for as much information as we can find. S.H.I.E.L.D. has been breaking into British government files, etc. We've even considered asking for Stark's help with the tech, but since it's usually _him _hacking into _us_ we'd rather keep our pride."

"Ah. What's your next step?"

"Finding where she is now. She doesn't have a cell phone we can track and her only public criminal record says she was arrested twelve years ago for murders. But it doesn't say which department or country did it or which prison she was sent to. Which is extremely out of the ordinary. It's like she disappeared off the planet. So someone, or 'something' definitely doesn't want her to be located."

"What other relatives does Harry have?"

"His mother's cousin is still alive. His name is Sirius Black but he's in prison too. He was named godfather by James. We have the same exact problem with him. Arrested twelve years ago for murder, of his best friend and eleven other people actually, no school records after age eleven and no details on his arrest. Harry is also distantly related to a family by the name of the Malfoys."

"Have you checked them out?"

"We've gone into them a little. We're planning a special visit soon. They also don't have school records after age eleven. It's a married couple, Lucious and Narcissa, and her maiden name was Black. Their son, Draco, was apparently homeschooled until the age of eleven and then, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's just so odd and happening to each of Harry's relatives? So strange."

"Who else does he have?"

"His uncle, Thor. And Bellatrix's first affair with Rodolphus Lestrange. She kept the last name, just not the man. He was also arrested twelve years ago."

"I haven't heard much about his parents. I mean, James and Lily," Steve stared into his coffee, obviously thinking hard.

"Murdered. Both of them. Same night in their house. Twelve years ago."

"Twelve years ago, twelve years ago. It all happened twelve years ago. But why? Do you have any dates for the arrests and murders?"

"Um...yeah. All of it took place October 31st, 2000."

"All of it. The same night," Steve muttered. "It doesn't make sense. This best friend of Sirius Black that he killed. What was his name?"

"Peter Pettigrew. Apparently both Black and Pettigrew were best friends with James. There was another man who was good friends with all three of them as well. His name was Remus Lupin and his school records also disappear after eleven."

"Bellatrix. What's her maiden name?"

"Black."

"Named after stars."

"What?"

"The Blacks. Their first names. Bellatrix, Sirius, Narcissa... Those are all stars. Tell me what stars remind you of," Steve pointed at Clint.

"Space. The galaxy, universes..."

"Keep going."

"Different realms...um..."

Steve stared intently at him.

"Asguard," Clint whispered, his eyes widening.

"How far does the Black heritage go?"

"Centuries but - ."

"We don't know how old the gods are. Especially Loki and Thor. I have a feeling he's old friends with the Black family."

Just then, Tony walked in, his full armor on with his facemask up. "Did I miss something?"

"Somewhat, yeah."

"I think we need to get back on the road," Clint muttered.

* * *

The car situation hadn't really improved much. After they ditched the jacked-up bike at the hotel, Tony had taken flight above the highway and set up his radio so he could talk to the car below him. On the ground, Clint was now driving, Steve had won shotgun and Natasha, Bruce, and Thor all in the back. Natasha had the middle seat squished in between the doctor and the thunder god. Everyone had their 'battle clothes' on, except for Bruce, who was once again wearing a business suit. Barton and Rogers had explained what they had figured out this morning.

"I knew nothing about any of this. His affair with this mortal, and knowing the Black family for such a long while. I knew of some visits to Earth he made now and again but asides from that I had no idea. I had already been betrayed by my brother in so many ways. I never thought his deception went this far..." Thor's grip tightened on his hammer and he scowled at the seat in front on him.

"So you knew nothing, all along?" Natasha turned her head toward him.

"Nothing."

Clint sighed.

"Wait..." Thor looked up, "There was one thing he said, with his fight with me, prior to when I thought him dead. It was while I was demolishing the bridge... he said, 'What are you doing?! If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!' And then, he tried to stab me again," Thor put on his thinking face. "He didn't want me to destroy that bridge. He thought my love for Jane would cause me never to do it. Loki didn't want the disconnection from Earth. I'm just realizing this now..."

"Well that's definitely a lead. Sort of," Bruce tipped his head to one side.

"So he did care about them. The Blacks. And Harry. But then why would he come back a year later and try to destroy the Earth? It doesn't make sense!"

"Maybe he changed his mind again and he actually doesn't care about them now," Tony suggested, his voice cackling over the radio.

"He didn't come to destroy the Earth. He want to rule it. And he wanted revenge. On me," Thor muttered.

"That's it!" Clint exclaimed, slapping his hand on the driver's wheel.

"_What's_ it?"

"Loki must have promised her the world."

"Well now we're all in a soap opera. Good work, Bird Brains," said Stark.

* * *

After almost being ran over by a motorcycle, Dobby had been a lot more careful in the mortal world. Staying down low, constantly running into bushes. But now he was back near the highways of London, looking for a black Acura and a man flying in gold and bright red suit. He was whimpering and shaking, just thinking about what his Master had just sent him to do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_I do not own anything you recognize from Marvel or Harry Potter._

_Sorry the update is short and poorly edited, but I'm glad it's something._

_Since this is basically an AU, I want to clear some things up. Bellatrix and the rest of the purebloods have Muggle records. All of things that don't match up with Harry Potter are like that for some reason because I made them that way. So I appreciate all the 'correction feedback' but I know what I'm doing and I'm not an idiot. Thanks loves! ;)_

_Oh, and the car and phone part: the general idea was taken from Season 1: Episode 1 of 'Sherlock' on BBC so just a heads up if it sounds familiar, and I don't own it._

_And all OCs in here are mine. ;)_

* * *

Awakening to a stiff back and neck, Harry groaned as his eyes opened to bright sunlight. He probably could of kept on sleeping, but like an alarm-clock, the bright red telephone booth nearest him had been ringing for the past ten minutes. Figuring he might as well get back on the move, he sat up and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. His oversized jeans and dark blue shirt were well-wrinkled, yet still contained his suitcase in his front pocket. Passersby eyed him, but he took no notice as he was used to it, seeing as he was famous Harry Potter.

As he walked along in the congested, pandemonium of a busy London street, Harry contemplated his situation. Not only was he pretty much homeless, he was running away from some fancy agency on his tail. And the Ministry probably wasn't too happy with him either. But he needed three things if we wanted to stay hidden: nutrition, Muggle money, and a good ally.

He could try risking a visit to Gringotts to acquire some pounds, but that was just the thing - _risking_. What if some Ministry official was in Diagon Alley? He would easily be caught and his entire plan would be screwed up. Well, who was he kidding? He didn't have a plan. Except one thing: just keep moving.

And that's what he did. Walking, walking, walking through the sidewalk crowds, carefully dodging his way around. But it took him less than twenty minutes to realize an unusual pattern; every time he walked pass a telephone booth, the phone would ring. It was as if someone was watching his every step, waiting for him to make his play.

The next time it occurred, he stood there facing it, occasionally getting bumped by urgent men and women. Taking a brief glance around, making sure no one else was going to answer it, he stepped inside and picked up the phone.

"Er...hello?" he asked nervously.

"Look around you," a man's voice, with an American accent, answered. "There are security cameras on the buildings opposite to you, and to your left and right. Do you see them?"

Harry's eyes searched, until he located the correct cameras. "Yes."

"A little hint, from me of course. When you're on the run, don't try hiding in plain sight. It just doesn't work too well."

"Excuse me, but who is this?"

"Ah, Mr. Potter, being straightforward is not really my section of expertise. However, I would like you to get into the car, I'll make that clear to you."

As if perfectly on cue, a black Acura pulled up to the curb.

"What if I don't want to get into the car?" Harry's hand shook as he held the phone.

"I'm someone who has the power to make your life hell in a matter of seconds. I wouldn't test me."

With that, Harry hung up and stepped out of the booth. A man in a business suit held open the door and like a robot, Harry entered the Acura.

Inside, the was a woman in the backseat with him, and two men occupying the front. Harry sat awkwardly with his hands in his lap.

"Hello...?" he said it in a questionably way.

"Hi," the woman, also with an American accent, answered with a tiny smile. She was a light brunette, with stunning blue eyes, full lips, and an hourglass figure. She was wearing a dark-grey, tight-fitting uniform with a type of combat boots.

"Um, could you tell me where I was going?"

"Not exactly. But you should know London well enough. What's your guess on where we're going?"

"No idea. I don't really get out much," Harry gazed out the window, avoiding eye contact. "But, who are you?"

"I'm Agent Katheryn Hill."

"I'm Harry."

"I'm aware."

"Okay," Harry exhaled a deep, shaky breath.

"Really? That nervous?"

"Um, no," once again, Harry avoiding eye contact.

"You shouldn't be. We have no desire to kill you Harry. We just want you on our side."

Harry didn't say anything. He just stared out the window, and let his hands quiver in between his legs.

* * *

"When are we getting lunch?"

"CAN YOU STOP THINKING ABOUT FOOD?"

"I wonder if there's shawarma here... Is there even a British Taco Tree?"

"ANTHONY STARK!"

"But seriously, that is a valid question. I know there's Denny's in Canada, but really do they even have In-N-Out here?"

"NO PROBABLY NOT! SHUT UP!"

"Don't have In-N-Out? What kind of country is this?"

"One that's not based on milkshakes and cheeseburgers!"

"Watch your mouth!"

"Oh what, am I wrong?"

"He does have a point. That's pretty much an American trait."

"I need to get out of this damn car."

"You're the one who wrecked the motorcycle!"

"CEASE YOUR BICKERING, MORTALS!"

Tension was rising in the small car containing five superheroes. Tony was perfectly happy ticking people off from his perch above. Thankfully, a phone call paused the arguing. Natasha's cell buzzed and rang, and she dug it out of one of her many pockets.

"It's Fury. Everyone stop being naïve," she hissed as she answered. "Yes, Director? Yes ... Yeah, we're still just driving around London ... Tony's up top ... What?! ... You found him?! ... Wait how? ... Oh, classic! ... Yeah, yeah we'll come ... Over and out."

"Is there news?" Thor questioned.

"They have Harry."

* * *

Dobby was invisible to the Muggle eye, which was rather helpful as he ran after his desired targets. Well, actually, his master's targets. All he needed was a red light, and a little black magic. And then he took his opportunity.

* * *

"So what's the address?" Tony waited above the highway as the car was parked at a stop.

"345 C Krita-" Natasha didn't get a chance to finish her sentence.

In a split second, all of Tony's warning lights appeared. "WHOA! WHOA!" he yelled. "JAARRRVIIISSS!" But there was no response as his suit lost power. The thrusters failed, and he felt himself starting to fall onto the filled streets. Thor and Cap jumped out of the car. Cap slid over a few hoods and Thor took flight. Thor caught the Iron Man about one second before he made contact with solid asphault. Cap had stopped the oncoming traffic by leaping in front of the stream of cars with his shield in front of him. Behind them, smoke started to arise from the hood of the Acura. The remaining Avengers quickly exited and started running towards Thor, Steve, and Tony. It was a good thing too, because as they reached their fellow heroes, the car caught on fire.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_So anyone watch Agents of SHIELD? Hope so, cause some of those characters and events might come up. And of course, Coulson lives! ;) And switching around the events of Harry Potter a bit... Gotta have some plot twists, right?_

* * *

It was rather awkward, as the most famous superheroes of the world stood astonished as their transportation burned. It was about an hour after the original fiasco of Iron Man falling from the sky. They had managed to redirect an alternate route around their car, because most of them were quite convinced it would blow soon, when the flames reached the gas tank. Any second now, they kept saying.

Tony's t-shirt, strong hands, and sweaty brow were covered in grease as he desperately worked on the suit with the few tools he had. He just had everything out in the street, with gold and red and silver metal pieces scattered around him. Bruce was trying to help as well, as they both searched for what caused the failure.

Natasha, Steve, Thor, and Clint were discussing options. They weren't exactly the kind of group that could just hail a cab. Police had already showed up and left, after the Avengers explained their situation. All that was left was to call Fury.

Steve was voted to do the honors, and he vocally dialed into his earpiece. But nobody answered.

* * *

**_Elsewhere..._**

The black, sleek Acura silently pulled up to what looked like an abandoned warehouse with fading letters that were barely legible. They were on the outskirts of the city, and little traffic, if any, passed by.

Agent Katheryn Hill got out of the car and walked around to open Harry's door. He shuffled out, with Katheryn's hand on his shoulder. She led him inside, and the young wizard gasped. It was beyond modern. Glass doors, titanium walls...

The door slammed behind them and Harry heard several locks lock automatically. And out of the shadows, came a short man in a blacker than black business suit.

"I'm Agent Coulson, Mr. Potter. Hope I didn't scare you too much back there. I honestly just wanted you to get into the car fast. Agent Hill, an 890."

A chill shivered down Harry's spine, as he recognized the voice from the telephone booth.

"Yes, sir."

Agent Hill exited into one of the glass doors, yet as soon as it closed, you could not longer see her.

"Who are you?" Harry put up his guard and hid his initial fear.

"I already told you. Someone who has enough power to make your life hell in a matter of seconds. But if you want me to be clear, I am part of S.H.I.E.L.D. The Strategic Homeland, Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division," the Agent motioned to a small table with two chairs, suggesting Harry sit. Which he did. "What does that mean to you, Harry?"

"That you're some fancy agency that I honestly don't trust."

"I've heard worse."

"But what do you mean, you can make my life hell in a matter of seconds? My life is already bloody hell, thank you very much."

"I have a super-secret-boy-band. And they aren't afraid to do what I tell them to do."

"Why do you want me?"

"It's my turn for questions. What do you know of the Battle of New York?"

"You mean that alien attack in New York City, in America? I know a little."

"Does the name 'Loki' mean anything to you?"

"Wasn't he the maniac who was in charge of it all?"

"Yes. I like to call him a bastard, but that works too."

"Right..."

"What do you know of Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Never heard of her."

"Then you've obviously been out of the loop for awhile. She's a murderer, who like to play with her victims before she makes the fatal strike. And she's on the loose," Coulson pulled out a _New York Times _from his back pocket from the date of a month ago and smoothed it down before Harry on the table. The headlines screamed, "BELLATRIX LESTRANGE ON THE LOOSE!" A subtitle proclaimed, "LOCK YOUR DOORS AND WINDOWS!"

"Why should I care about this ... _person_?"

Twirling a pen in his hand, Agent Coulson stood and began to pace back and forth in the small room. "Listen, Harry. You're in danger. This murderer and god both have business they wish to settle with you. We're the good guys. We want to help you."

"Help me?! You just forced me into a dark car and now we're in some secret building no one knows about. You could be kidnappers for all I know. I could get up and fight you right now!"

"We could either be the Allies or the Axis Powers. It's your decision. My super-secret-boy-band could either protect you, or become your worse nightmare."

"How could you help me?" Harry still had his guard up, and his hand hovered at the pocket that contained his wand.

"You don't have a plan, Mr. Potter. You don't have any food, clothes, and I bet you're hungry." Just the very thought of food caused Harry's stomach to grumble.

"You have absolutely nothing. If you settle an alliance with us, I can promise you many things. Among that list is your safety."

"You're my only choice at the moment except going on my own. If you're the only options in alliances for me, why be so quick about it?"

"We're not you're only options in alliances. We're just the first ones to make an offer."

Abruptly, Agent K. Hill walked out from the glass door with a quick gait. Harry had the sickening gut feeling that she had heard their entire conversation. She whispered something in Coulson's ear that Harry couldn't make out. His knuckles began to whiten as he gripped the pen with a strong grasp.

"Have you contacted Director Fury?" he kept his voice low.

"None of the operators are answering. Lines of contact are down. We're on our own for now," she responded with a steady mutter.

"What defenses does this building have?" They were obviously excluding Harry from the conversation, but he could still hear every bit.

"Just a few guns, sir. Asides that, nothing."

"It's got us. What about the Avengers?"

"They've ... _lost_ their transportation and the Iron Man is down. Stark is trying to fix it, and the rest of them are on their way. But their timing is questionable."

"How long?"

"Any second."

"Guns are useless on him, keep that in mind. The only chance we'll have is if they show up."

"Noted."

Coulson turned to Harry. "Will you trust me?"

Harry stared into his eyes. He didn't see any lies, just assuring truth.

"Yes."

"Then I need you to go through that door. There is a hidden trapdoor. Go down and lock yourself in. Agent Hill will cover up your tracks."

"C'mon Mr. Potter," Katherine put his hand on his shoulder and led him to where Coulson specified. Right before he was about to close and lock the trapdoor, the Agent leaned down and said, "Remember to trust _us_. Everything's gonna be okay."

And with that, he locked himself below ground. Agent Hill made the final adjustments, then joined Coulson in the main room.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"We make sure he doesn't find Harry."

"You know we don't stand a chance, right?"

"We always have a chance."

"How did he escape?"

"I don't want to know."

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

They both loaded their guns and as they stood back-to-back, they waited. And then it came.

From the far corner of the room, a grand explosion of electric blue light made a porthole revealing the heavens. It shook the entire facility, and felt like thunder in the walls. Because of the impact of the final blow, both Agents took a step back. And then the electricity failed, and from the pitch black shadows, echoing around, with a cold hiss of a voice, they both knew only too well.

"Tell me where he is now, and maybe I'll spare you."

"How many times do you need to be told that you're gonna lose?" Coulson raised his guns.

"Yet I won't lose by the trigger of your gun, Philip Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"No probably not. But you'll fail again. You can't win the world," both Katherine and Phil had nowhere to aim. And they had no clues to where the god was.

"I don't want the world. I want revenge. Now tell me where!"

"That's not what we're hired to do."

"Is _it_?!"

Coulson felt Katherine fall limp behind him. He was alone, with the risk of a silent death.

* * *

"COULSON CAN YOU HEAR ME?!" Steve yelled into the door.

"We're too late..."

"DON'T SAY THAT!"

It took the super-soldier only one try and he had successfully elbowed the door down. It was empty. With the Captain in the lead, Natasha, Thor, Clint, and Bruce ran through the first room. Cap shattered the door with his shield after it wouldn't unlock.

"Oh-no," Natasha gasped.

There had obviously been a struggle. It looked like some form of trapdoor had been blown open with a bomb. Blood was splattered around in no particular pattern. Heavy dents marked the walls. Without anybody giving orders, they all automatically began searching for bodies. Through the next hour, they had covered every square inch of the building. But nothing was found.

Katherine Hill, Phil Coulson, and young Harry Potter were gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_Some people aren't gonna like this chapter. Because a certain sexy god becomes an unlikeable person._

_ANDDDDD Agent Katherine Hill is a relative to Agent Maria Hill, and that will come into play very soon..._

_Right now this fanfic is just a bunch of chaos with people running around with guns, wands, and a lot of secrets. I hope you don't mind that._

* * *

Like a ghostly demon, Bellatrix Lestrange silently slithered through the backstreets of London with _Evanesco _hiding her from Muggle eye. Although it was still daylight (which she did not prefer to be exposed in), she had business to settle, and she was determined not to let it wait any longer. Twelve years was long enough to wait, and it drove her desperation and crazed anger in her blazing heart.

Her untamable hair was hidden under a blacker-than-black cloak, and her wand was secure in her white hands. Bellatrix wore her distinctive outfit with her goth-like dress and high-heeled boots.

She knew who she wanted. And with days of tracking, she knew exactly where he was. And before long, she reached her destination. A worn, down wooden building that seemed to be rotting before her eyes. It seemed abondoned; she knew better. With careful steps, she reached the front door and placed her ear to it.

Through the solid door, Bellatrix could hear the voice. _His _voice. An evil smile overtook her expression, and she allowed herself a low cackle.

It was time to do what she did best.

_Revenge._

* * *

"I can't get the suit to work. Guys, we're sorta stuck here," Tony's voice crackled on the radio Captain Rogers was holding. Standing outside the now ruined warehouse, four out of the six Avengers were desperately trying to agree on a plan.

"We'll just have to continue on without you. Thor, any way to track their where-abouts?" Steve loaded a gun.

"If thine brother has enchanted his location with dark magic, only an exceptional few would be able to break his spells," explained the thunder god.

"Then I need you to become one of those exceptional few in the next ten seconds," Cap responded with a hard tone. He was becoming desperate.

"We need to try to get contact restored with headquarters," Clint checked on his arrows. The Black Widow nodded in agreement.

"Screw S.H.I.E.L.D." Tony muttered, which was hard to decipher.

"We need to act _now_ if we want a chance. We've delt with Loki before. Think. What will his plays be? Last time he wanted an Army behind his back before he took on all of his. I'm guessing there won't be much difference this time. Except who could he contact that would come willingly and is powerful enough to stand us up? Thor, any ideas?"

"I contain no-"

"Damn, I've got something," Natasha pointed to an abruptly-ending set of footsteps.

"Let's start that way," Steve strided past them, and the others followed.

* * *

"Sir, absolutely none of any electronics we've tried are working. We've...we've lost power!" Agent Maria Hill yelled to Director Fury in the computer room of the helicarrier. "We've lost all power to the engines!" she glanced up at Fury, and her silent expression spoke four dreadful words: This. Is. The. End.

That was all the Director needed to hear. His last hope was to manually switch the power. Words from Loki filled his mind as he ran, his heart pounding in his throat...

_"Your heroes are scattered, your floating fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?"_

* * *

Harry awoke with a splitting headache and the inability to move. When he opened his eyes he realized he was chained to a chair with what looked like gold-titanium alloy shackles. His blurred vision cleared, and he realized he was in an old wooden building that had old oak furniture that seemed to be rotting and falling apart. Across the room, Agents Hill and Coulson had the same problem except they both had some metal pieces over their mouth so they couldn't speak. And unlike Harry, they had dried blood around their temples. Coulson was also coming to, but Katheryn was still out cold.

He didn't have any memory of what could of happened. He concentrated hard, and a quick flashback filled his mind, and he recalled for a brief moment being locked in a pitch-black cellar. Coulson's eyes widened and he was also trying to yell something at Harry, but his voice was muffled. Even so, Harry got the message: _behind you_!

Harry turned his head to see a tall, black-haired man, in a gold and green leather armor and a scepter with a glowing blue light. He recognized the face vaguely from when he watched news on the telly, as Loki, God of Mischief, of Asguard.

"Do you know who I am?" Loki hissed, striding in front of Harry.

"You're," he glanced towards Coulson. "A bastard."

"Say my name."

Harry stared at the floor, his lips sealed. He was determind not to give this man what he wanted.

"I see the Son of Coul taught you well. But I bet he didn't teach you one thing," Loki put his hand on Harry's chest. The young wizard tried to twist away, yet he was no match for the god's unbreakable grasp. "Listen to that. A heart, a mortal heart."

Still avoiding eye-contact, Harry's eyesight darted to the windows, floor, and back again. With Loki's hand pressing onto his lungs, it was becoming difficult to breathe, but he made sure not to reveal this weakness.

After a minute, Loki stood up and began to stride the room.

"Tell me, Harry Lokison, what is like to have a Asguardian god for a father?"

"What?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_As I stated last chapter, this fanfic is currently just a bunch of people running around with wands, guns and secrets. So I really hope you don't mind that._

_I was also watching the Hunger Games while writing part of this, so if it's a little violent, that's why and it's all Katniss's fault._

* * *

"Tell me, Harry Lokison, what is it like to have an Asguardian god for a father?"

"What?"

"I _said_, what is it like to have an Asguardian god for a father?"

Harry just stared at him, with an eyebrow raised, wondering if he was a mental.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?!"

"So thy Son of Coul did not reach that far in explanations, did he?" Loki smiled slyly at the agent.

"Harry, who are your parents?"

"Lily and James Potter!"

"NO! No. A cover story. Everything. All that you know, Harry, is a lie."

Harry shook his head. _I'm Harry POTTER. Harry POTTER. HARRY POTTER._

"NO! IT'S NOT!"

The god grasped his face and whispered in his ear, "Even Hogwarts."

Harry's throat tightened. He was not going to believe this God of Lies. He couldn't afford to.

Slowly, he brought up his gaze and glared loathsome-ly into Loki's emerald eyes.

"No."

"You are stubborn. Arrogant. Like your mother."

"NO!" Harry screamed. "NO! NO! NO! YOU'VE KILLED PEOPLE! YOU'RE A LIAR! YOU'RE A FILTHY ARSE!"

"Silence." Loki covered his mouth was a secure clamp. Harry struggled and screamed but the god kept his grasp; the wizard didn't let up and struggled for his wand, but it was impossible.

"_Si-lence!_" Loki hissed, knocking out Harry with a single blow to the temple. Coulson's eyes were hot enough to kill.

Loki had indeed heard something, and as he spun around he came face to face with his worst enemy, his deepest love, and his most memorable regret.

Silhouetted in the doorway, Bellatrix Laufyson whispered two words that pierced the silent room.

"G'evening Asguardian."

* * *

"Director! It worked! We returned to full power! However, this will run out soon. We need to land!"

"Thank God," Agent Maria Hill whispered after hearing the news called out by a fellow agent.

"Get us over water!" yelled the Director as he re-entered the room, rather out of breath.

They obeyed, and the helicarrier began to fall.

* * *

After walking several miles at a decent pace (Clint and Natasha had to jog to keep up with the supersoldier and god) they arrived at old oak building that seemed to be slowly falling apart. The foursome had had little contact with Tony and Bruce, who were still stranded in downtown London. And as they approached the rotting structure, they all silently wished they could of had their help. Reaching the door without problems, they let Cap put his ear to the door and listen to the voices inside. He instantly recognized the unique voice of Loki, but there was a scratchy sort of hiss that was completely foreign. It almost sounded...female? With his exquisite hearing, Cap could easily hear the whispered argument.

"You possess much nerve to come crawling back to me," Loki smirked.

"I'm not crawling. And you have almost _too_ much nerve to come back to Midguard, Laufyson." It was that scratchy voice again.

Loki cackled. "You belive I have fear? No. I crave vengeance."

"Well then. We agree on one thing."

"We've always agreed on one thing, Bellatrix. Evil is the only way of the realms. Now, please lower your wand. I do not wish to bring revenge on you. Can we not sort out our differences?"

Bellatrix? What the hell is a Bellatrix?

Cap thought; he continued to eavesdrop.

"Sort out our differences? Ha! You have not changed much since we last met. A tongue of silver."

"I'm the god of lies for a reason."

"And that's all you were and will ever be. _Lies._"

"Are you any different?"

"No. And that's I why I returned. You bitch. I can't deny you any longer. We can sort out our differences, you god. I have missed you. Are you ready to finish what we started?"

"That's the woman I know."

Deciding it was a good time to make a grand entrance, the soldier burst in; Thor, Clint, and Nat were close on his heels. And they had entered upon Loki kissing a crazy-haired, wild-eyed woman.

"So that's a 'Bellatrix'..." Cap muttered.

"BROTHER!" Thor shouted (his face showed disgust).

"Ah, I was just waiting for your appearance. Brother of thine, I would like you to meet my lucky maiden, Bellatrix Laufyson."

"When did this all occur?!" Thor was furious; all the anger from secrets Loki had kept from him over the years was filling him with uncontrollable acrimony.

"You are so easy to trick, it barely requires any effort. While you were gallivanting around fighting impulsive battles and training for kingship, I was on Midguard, training myself for my own royalty."

"This isn't aristocracy, Loki. How many times must I tell you. This is _madness. _Complete utter _madness_."

"Oh, I almost forgot. And why don't you give your nephew salutations," Loki stepped aside to reveal the unconscious Harry.

"What did you did to him?" Natasha commanded. Cap, Nat, and Clint had their various weapons locked on Loki.

"Cognitive recalibration. He just couldn't accept the fact that I am his father."

Thor's face hardened. "I'm still having doubts myself."

"Well then, how about some more recalibration?"

"I think you need psychiatric help," said Hawkeye.

"Just for that, bird, I'll murder you first," Loki took a shot.

And then all hell broke loose.


End file.
